Wandering Bird
by kmmc
Summary: The backstory of Johanna Mason.
1. Our Father, who art in Heaven

**Hallelujah: Kate Voegele**

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_Our Father, who art in Heaven..._

I said the prayer every morning and recited it again each evening. Every day was the same since I was ten. I'd wake up in the cold log cabin in a small room surrounded by my sisters. We would start our day with morning chores and then fall into our daily routines.

Daddy spent days at a time out in the forest clearing lumber. Most men did. Mama, my sisters, and I worked in the paper mill with the rest of the women. It was mundane labor, but paying labor nonetheless. The fruits of our labor were few, but somehow we always had enough food to feed five mouths. The quality of our food, however, was also poor. Food was scarce. But we made do...always. There wasn't much to complain about when we had so little.

Riches we were short, but stories and time we were graced with.

Outside of work, Talia and Ruth, my older sisters, spent most of their time gossiping with silly girls that lived within the District. Daddy would usually stay out in the woods until nightfall, he would have his dinner, and then he would go to sleep. Sometimes he would read to Mama, but he stayed out late ever since Sarah died. "Look after them," He would tell me every morning before he left.

After work, I'd prepare dinner and listen to my sisters' chatter. I'd listen to Mama and her wise ramblings while cleaning. Then I'd prepare for my evening plans. Mama would usually sit with me, folding and refolding clean and dirty clothes.

She packed my bag for the next morning. "Johanna, be ready for tomorrow, when you start work." She said before I left the house one night, like she had my very first day. Her days weren't always clear.

"Yes Mama." I said bluntly, finishing up my chores, ignoring her warnings. I drained the water in our metal basin and finished up my sweeping.

"Did you read Psalms?" My mother called, placing the small, shared book on the old uneven table. It was a ratty, tattered thing, full of stupid lies and fairy tales that only the weak believed in, stories my poor mama believed in.

I tied up my long brown hair, pushing it out of my dark eyes. I pulled my jacket over my bony shoulders. "Yes Mama," I lied. I hated reading from that book. Mama was the only religious person in District Seven. No one else saw what she did in the myths of an Almighty God who reigned somewhere in the clouds. I started out the door, my heart raced at the thought of seeing him. Mama's last call held me back for only a second.

"Don't get lost." She told me each time I left.

The birds chirped as the sun started to set.

I laughed quietly, smiling at the ground as the screen door of the little cabin shut. My boots shuffled in the dark dirt at our backdoor. "Never lost Mama, I just wander," I called back in tradition. I turned my back on the shanty home. My mom was the one person who worried about where my wanderings led, and she was the one person always rescuing me when I did get lost. That's probably why I worried so much about her lately. She deserved better daughters. She deserved to have my sister back. We never protected her like we should have. My convictions weighed on my heart, heavier each day, especially when I mourned over my poor mama.

Mama was what they called pure of heart, or thoughtless. "The Lord is good to us…you remember that." She told me as I walked to the edge of the woods. I shook my head in bitterness. I always wondered when the best times were for her to remember how good her god was to us. When we lived in poverty? When my eldest sister was sold to peacekeepers, and then slaughtered? When they called my mother crazy? When she lost her mind? When we watched twenty-three other kids murdered each year because of a cruel government? Her god wasn't here. Her god didn't care for us.

No one did. Not even my father who was so consumed in grief he ignored justice and followed rules ignorantly. "For protection" my sisters would tell me. But who could protect us? If they wanted us dead, they'd have the chance...they have the power to end us. We were the ones who had to gain that power back. There was only one person in District Seven who agreed.

I ran out to the woods, the sun was still shinning an orange glow. Shadows stretched across the forest floor. My heart drummed loudly as I picked up speed. I would see him soon.


	2. Hallowed be Thy name

**Seven Devils: Florence and the Machine. **

* * *

_Hallowed be thy name._

I ran through the trees, the smell of pine was electrifying. The lofty clouds were simply wisps. Was her god hiding behind the ugly pieces of cotton that dangled in the sky? My poor, foolish mother. I ran in anger, as if my pain would avenge hers. "Come on Johan!" I watched as he joined my sprint, laughing at me, matching my pace.

Kalon Nell was everything I loved and hated. He was tall and muscular. He had long brown hair that curled at his ears. His dark eyes stared at me tauntingly while we raced through the woods. He competed against me whenever he had the chance, challenging my next move. He was my best friend, lover, and opponent possessed in one terribly handsome man. He always said I was the least feminine of my three sisters, even past my long brown hair. I guess he was kind of right in that sense. I was the most powerful out of the four of us…the first one didn't stay to attest.

"Shut-up!" I shouted, outrunning him. The fresh air filling my lungs pushed me further. We ran deep into the forest where we knew we'd be safe. When we reached the first set of notches cut into tall trees, he stopped me.

This was our first set of training. I had to fight him. It was a quick attack. Kalon slammed me to the ground. I sucker punched him, and flipped us over, pinning him to the forest floor. Blood poured from his lip. It was a fresh wound. He fought me off, holding me so tightly his grip opened old cuts on my arms. I swung at him until I had the upper advantage, but he was stronger. He wrapped his hands around my neck and shoulder, prying me off of him, holding me against the tree. "You like trapping me?" I gasped, the tips of my boots scrapping the ground.

"So you don't wander off," He chuckled letting me go. He touched his wound with a small grimace. "Really Jo, a cut right on the lip?" He asked, pulling his bloodied hand away from the hit. He looked bewildered.

I shrugged, "Are you afraid I disfigured your pretty face?" I hissed with a cold smile, my back still against the bark. He laughed, putting his thumb to my lower lip. I took his hand in mine, kissing his fingers, "More to explain to your mother," I grinned. His mother would never like me at this rate. She already thought I was a wild devil dancing at the gates of Hell. I didn't blame his radically defensive mother though...We all needed something to believe in, and in District Seven we saw more Hell than Heaven.

But regardless of his mother's thoughts, Kalon still saw the good in me. Heaven on Earth, he called me. He smiled back, rubbing his jaw. "Right…tell her that a ninety pound girl beat me to the ground…I don't think so." He said, pulling me into him.

I attempted to walk away from him, rolling my eyes, "You still won." I told him irritably.

He grabbed my wrist pulling me back to him, "No. Because I let you go." He said, wrapping me in his arms.

"Because it was over," I growled, trying to shove him off.

His eyes watched me and then he looked me over with a small smirk, "Not quite," Kalon leaned into me and pressed his bloody lips against mine. Even with the taste of rust in my mouth, it was an enjoyable two seconds. A rush surged through me, as I craved for him, always. But he flew past me. Our training time was running out. He pushed us on. Our time was sacred. We knew better than to stay in one place too long. It was only a matter of time now before someone grew suspicious of our time in the woods. If they caught us, they would kill us...it was only a matter of time now.


	3. Thy Kingdom Come

**The Wolves: Ben Howard.**

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_Thy kingdom come. _

"Come on!" I pushed him, charging through the trees. "Climb!" I shouted at the second set of notches. We pulled our bodies up on low branches, traipsing to the denser parts of the trees and then falling safely to the ground. If we could rule the forest and conquer the ground, we could captivate our audience and survive.

"Attack it Jo!" Kalon called as we began hunting. I grabbed my axe that was nestled by the third set of notches near a heavy populated hunting ground. I hurtled it at the small rabbit. When I missed, Kalon and I sprinted through the woods still, swinging at movements. I was a better aim, but something caught my attention.

At the end of our training I caught a rabbit and he trapped a few squirrels. I gave my catch to him, not stupid enough to try and drag the bloody thing back to my house where I would only catch a mixture of Dad's concern and fury for my disobedience of District law and my sisters' grief over a dead animal. Kalon built a small fire, skinning our catch and preparing a sparse meal for the two of us, and one for his family. "You look good out there," He told me, pushing back his dark hair as sweat dripped down his face.

I lifted an eyebrow with a small smirk. I shrugged, leaning back and letting my heart settle. He nudged me, "You know how I meant it...You do look good though." His dark eyes set on me, and I looked away.

"Good enough to compete with Careers." I muttered to the fire.

Kalon placed two pieces of bark just in the flames. "Good enough to win against them, yes." He told me.

I rolled my eyes, lounging now against the tree trunk. "Your optimism is annoying," I sighed.

He laughed, "The same can be said about your pessimism." He told me, tossing me one of the pieces of bark, and taking a bite from his own. "You're worried?"

"I guess. If I went in though, what would I lose?" I smirked. Kalon frowned and then smiled again, shaking his head. He always saw through me. I hated him for that.

"Come on Jo, don't act like you're too tough for us." He would tell me. He always reprimanded me. He was one to talk, being tougher than most men in Seven. He was wiser thanks to his mother and father and their superstitions. He thought me stupid because of my mother and how I used to recite the fairy tales she taught me. He never worried. He never broke down. He never took less than what he could carry, but usually took the other man's burdens as well when he worked out in the woods. He was stronger than most of them, he had more heart too. He was better than me in most ways, but I would never admit it to him.

"I don't," I whispered shamefully. I looked into the fire, embers dancing, the smoke suffocating, but soothing nonetheless. Fear was settling in. The Reaping was so close now and our training seemed almost pathetic. Fighting, climbing, and hunting...would any of those matter if a Career could outsmart me? All I knew how to do was throw an ax...not even accurately. Kalon sensed my doubt, so I redirected. "How would you win?" I asked him, throwing a branch in the fire.

Kalon looked up, furrowing his eyebrows. "What?" The flames popped.

"What would be your strategy?" I asked with more clarity, my tone rising.

He smiled a broad, handsome smile, "The one I suggest you use? Or the one I've personally designed for myself?" He asked, shuffling around the flaming branches.

I watched him, biting into a piece of cooked pine bark, the small delicacy of Seven. "Both," I said, leaning toward him.

He placed the meat over the fire, "Well, for myself, I would make allies fast and let them kill off one another." He said coolly.

"How?" I prodded. Kalon was smart, smarter than most of the kids who go into those games. We both knew the few workable strategies of the Games, but he had more confidence in fighting wolves than I ever did.

Kalon leaned back against a fallen log, "I'm dealing with kids, it can't be too hard to trick them? It's heartless, but I'd play at my best angle." He said, watching the dark clouds as if justifying his thought to someone. "You on the other hand…If I were you, I would isolate myself."

For some reason, I took offense and leapt back, "Why?"

He looked at me, as if I amused him, "Well, isn't it obvious? You're a tiny, seventeen-year-old girl from the lumber district. For all they know, your best skill is producing mass amounts of paper, if you're even competent enough for that…which you can make them think you're not. You'd seem like the easiest target. No one would be suspicious of you, and then you get in that arena, gather your supplies and kill right at the Cornucopia."

I rolled my eyes, taking another bite out of the tough bark, "Like I'm good enough for that."

"You are. Lure the boys in, take down the girls…simple. Then hide and kill them off one by one." He explained, taking the bark from my hands and popping the last piece in his mouth. He smiled, leaned over and kissed me. I pushed him away.

"We're bad people," I muttered.

He sat back against the log, and let my legs drape over his lap. "We're good survivors," He reminded me, stroking my leg.

I smiled and then asked the obvious question, "And when we're both called, who survives?" I asked, lifting an eyebrow.

He shook his head, dismissing my question almost instantaneously. "That won't happen."

Of course, he couldn't guarantee that. I didn't feel like talking much then. It was weird thinking that one day we might have to kill each other.

Kalon always knew when I was over thinking something. "Hey brainless, I love you." He said with a smile, tossing me my portion of the rabbit.

I grinned back, a little more shy than normal, "Yeah. I love you too." I said, enjoying my meal and my last night of freedom with Kalon in peace.


	4. Thy Will be Done

**You Could Be Happy: Snow Patrol. **

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_Thy will be done, _

The next day was the end to my peace. It was a cruel act of fate, but not unexpected. When the man called my name, I didn't hesitate. My mother didn't cry. I could only hear my sisters weeping. I stood on stage, bells ringing in my ears. I didn't know my opponent. I'd never seen him. He was an ugly mug and didn't seem to have much of a personality, but I was a lot like him, wasn't I? I hardly shook his hand. My stomach filled with butterflies. I felt like I was choking. I shrank on stage. I wished so desperately to be watching from a different perspective...but this was it.

They took me back to the cold, rotting rooms of the unused Justice Building. The oak furniture was old and ruined by years of neglect. I stood, pacing. They sent my sisters in. Ruth, the oldest one first. She cried for me, "Sweet baby sister! I'm sorry!" She blubbered on about asking me to take tesserae. But none of that would have stopped this. I kissed my sister, hugging her, consoling her, and watched them escort her out.

Talia's crying wasn't any better. "I should have stepped in!" She cried. "I should have volunteered." I didn't say much to her. Talia and I never saw eye to eye with her being only a year older. I told her not to worry. We both knew she would never survive. She was the most fragile of us.

My dad walked in with a stare of concern. He didn't shed a tear, which I was thankful for. He told me loved me, lecturing me with the best intentions. He told me to avenge her. I nodded in understanding. He didn't cry. He knew he was losing another daughter. With one last hug he told me the one phrase I rarely heard from him, "I'm proud of you Johanna."

Mama was the last to walk in the room. "Mama, I told them not to let you watch." I said, my voice shaking.

My small mother wrapped me in her fragile arms. "You worry too much," She smiled, her dark, graying hair fell against her shoulders like it used to when I was younger. Her tired eyes watched me with a small glimmer of hope. "Oh my baby...You can win this." She told me, pushing my hair back.

"I'm scared Mama." I told her. It was my first honest answer of the day.

Mama let me go and handed me the small, tattered book. "Don't be. This is His will Johanna. You'll be safe." She said, wrapping my hands around the broken black leather.

"Mama...I..." I started, my voice was filling with disappointment.

But she didn't let me doubt. "Shh. Just sit here with me." She told me, sitting down in one of the old wooden chairs.

"Okay Mama." I said quietly. I would miss her the most. I would worry about her constantly. She was so weak and deserved so much more.

She prayed over me, muttering passages and verses. She kissed my forehead and hugged me. "Don't wander. Come straight home." She whispered.

I told my family how much I loved them before I left. Because I did, I really did love them. I was ready to board the train, pained that I wasn't able to see the one face that would have given me some hope. But he found me. Kalon was the last person to see me. He stood on the edge of the crowd, rushing towards me. He pulled me over to him, "Remember our plan," He told me kissing me. Our first display of love to the public and I was on my way to the Capitol. He put my face in his strong hands, "Don't get intimidated. You know you can win."

I smiled softly. I never cried in front of him and today was no exception. "I'm going to miss you." Crying was weak and that was a show for the Capitol.

He smiled, gently kissing me again even though we were pressed for time, "I love you. You know that," He said, pushing my long brown hair back.

I nodded, watching him and his mirroring dark eyes. "I do. I love you too. Keep them all safe," I breathed kissing him again. "Mama especially. Protect her please."

He smiled, pressing our foreheads together, "I'll do my best. Win, Jo." He said, holding my cheek in his hand.

Someone pulled at my arm. "I know no other thing." Those were my last words to him. I was whisked away to the train with some mentors, another tribute, and a Capitol representative. It was unbearable, but my mom was right...I had to go.


	5. On Earth as it is in Heaven

**Gracious: Ben Howard. **

* * *

_On Earth as it is in Heaven._

The train ride was abhorred. I desperately wanted to climb out of the window and be snapped in half by the speed winds. The other tribute was an eighteen-year-old whom I knew nothing about. I expected someone much younger than me. Would that have been better, moral-wise? No. But it sure as hell would have been easier to fight. He watched me often. He followed me in and out of the train cars.

Other than my internal battle of taking him down and acting weak, my emotions were fairly level. I spent most of the train ride turning the old leather bound book my mother had given me in my hands. _"Read Psalm." _I heard her voice almost clearly. I flipped through the pages. I put my thumb under the heading of the thirty-third chapter. My mother underlined one verse in particular.

"Think that'll save you?" The boy interrupted.

"No," I whispered honestly to myself. I never raised my voice, no matter how tempting it was. He ignored me from then on. Other than him, everyone else seemed to keep to themselves. My mentor was eager to teach me about the arena, but when she picked up on my disinterest she left me alone for the train ride. I rarely interacted and when I did it was usually just a smile or nodding in understanding. I missed talking and having someone to talk to. I missed Kalon.

The Capitol was as spectacular as they described it. Everything was gleaming. The women, although strange, were beautiful. The men, odd but handsome. The streets almost looked as if they were paved of gold. Everything looked perfect. I despised it. They lived in luxury while I lived in poverty. Soon that would be over, but it would cost me the blood shed of twenty-three innocent lives. Horror, blood staining their yellow painted sidewalks.

They dressed me in a tree-like garments, applauded for me, cheered. Everyone watched me with dead eyes and animated smiles. I didn't speak. I stared back like a terrified animal.

"That behavior won't win sponsors," They told me. But I didn't need sponsors, I could win the game without them. No food, no water, it didn't matter. The Games would be over in a matter of hours. The Cornucopia would be my first attack. I didn't speak. I only planned. Eventually my own mentor gave up on me. My scores were poor. My attitude was meek and altogether disappointing. I was bait.

They all started drifting away from me, ready to watch me die. They isolated me until one mentor in particular felt it necessary to introduce himself. I knew him though. I had heard a lot of stories about Finnick Odair. He was as attractive as everyone said he was.

"I heard you don't talk much." He said. He looked tired, but handsome. His stature drew me in. He had a seductive way of forming his words. His smile was intriguing with a certain charm to it. It was flattering, intoxicating, the arrogant way he approached women, me in particular.

I shook my head, folding my lips in. I formed my persona around my weak demeanor. My eyes grew wider. I was to look as innocent as possible and look past the tricks of my opponents and their mentors like Kalon warned me.

"I mentored a tribute like you." Finnick told me with a softer smile than before.

My lips automatically formed into a small smile. Annie Cresta, the lucky one who fell in love with her mentor and then went mad, of course. "Last year's victor?" I asked quietly, letting my gruff voice soften to a high-pitched trill. "You're proud of her?" I lifted my brow and Finnick smirked watching me with his famous sea green eyes. It was my first mistake. I searched his face, hoping he overlooked my obvious disdain for the lovesick victor of his.

He nodded, looking towards the ground. "I'm very proud of her, yes," He answered and then looked back up at me with a more intense but kind stare.

I frowned, challenging him, "Not a single kill…you don't think that's weak?" I asked quietly, reverting back to my planned constraint.

"No," Finnick said, shaking his head and clearing his throat. His voice became deeper and smoother; there was sincerity to him when he defended her. "Killers aren't necessarily victors."

I smirked, remembering to maintain my wide-eyed innocence and shrugged, "We'll see, I suppose." I meant to walk off but some little voice in my mind stopped me. "I'm nothing like her, you know." I called out to him.

He laughed, "We'll see, I suppose."

My tactic was simple, act weak and come out strong. My competition wasn't as easy to take down, but I knew there was something to go home to and life as a victor would only be an improvement. I kept playing my role, no matter how pretty they made me or treelike. I never fought them. I let them teach me, train me, and judge me. I lost sponsors, but I was a survivor…you had to be in Seven.

The night before the Games, I took the small leather bound book back in my hands. I could still hear my mother's voice begging me to read. I opened the dusty old book and flipped through tattered pages until I found chapter thirty-three.

_"The Lord loves righteousness and justice; the earth is full of His unfailing love." Psalm 33:5. _

I closed the book in a fit of anger. "So it seems," I muttered climbing into bed letting my mind drift to dreams of death and gold. Sleep was no escape. An aching pain attacked my chest. My dreams led me to a golden city with tall sparkling thrones and adorned crowns. "Oh how you wander," A faceless voice called out. Drums resounded and harps chimed. "You will find justice." The voice spoke. A wind picked up and I was led down a desolate road with demolished buildings and dying trees. My throat closed. I woke up.

I woke up in a cold room, sweat gathered around my brow. I ignored the ramblings of my subconscious. My chest still ached. Today was the day.


	6. Give us this day our daily bread

**Fair Fight: The Fray.**_  
_

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_Give us this day our daily bread._

It was stupid, maybe even irrational, but I prayed before going into the arena. My mentor didn't speak to me before I boarded the hovercraft. My stylist pinned my hair back, leading me to the tube that would lead me to wherever I would see my opponents. I prayed again. I missed my mom. I missed everyone back in Seven. I should have spent more time with my family. I should have done a lot of things, but there wasn't a lot of time to focus on my regrets.

I flew up to the arena. The sky was dark. I watched the twenty three faces that looked troubled with anxiety. In seconds, I narrowed down the tributes that would fight back. The weak ones were easy to spot. I took a deep breath. The countdown began. I took another breath. A cannon shot and it was time to move. I raced to the Cornucopia, pushing past my opponents. I was the fastest.

The first weapon I picked up was a small knife near the outside. I took down three kids in less than a minute. A career tribute was on my trail.

I didn't stop to look at my surroundings. I grabbed an ax meant for my tribute partner, I was sure. I swung at anything that moved, killing two others in the process. When my threats stopped attacking, I grabbed my weapons and supplies, running out into the woods. It was a perfect environment for me. One side was home, but on the other side of the arena, there was a desolate ruin of a brick building.

I sprinted into the woods, but I refused to hide. I chased down tributes. If I found someone, I killed them. I climbed trees like Kalon and I would in training to find my victims. When they aimed their weapons at me, I'd slip down and take them as mine. The ax supplied at the Cornucopia was my lifeline, my best chance against my opponents. Whatever they had on them, I'd take, making sure it was sealed and safe to consume. I decided against killing the other tribute from Seven. I had already taken his chance of surviving.

Day three had arrived. Drinking water wasn't as difficult as I had predicted it to be, but surviving was no easy task. The conditions were rough and all I had to protect myself was what I was stealing from other tributes. Rain fell, feeling like acid against my skin. I'd hide under stolen tarps and jackets. The heat would become overbearing. Nights were extremely cold. Sometimes I would grow desperate and my mentor rarely ever sent me anything. Those days when I didn't have much fight, I would stay low and look forward to the cannon shots and nightfall, fewer opponents hunting me. When I drifted off to sleep, I would hear their screams. There were days my mind became vicious. _"Murderer." _My thoughts would swirl around the word, focusing solely on it. Sometimes my emotions became hard to handle, but I bit back the screams or tears that threatened to weaken me. My mind was so cruel, but I had to remind myself, delude myself, and lie to myself that it was just a game.

Ten kids, ten out of the twenty-three. I had taken their lives. Their blood rested on my hands and stained my clothes and all I remembered of the fights I had with them were their scared eyes right before I killed them. But it was a game. They would wake up somewhere, safe and sound. They would live happily in a fairy tale land my mother always told me about. That place where people went when they died. They would be okay. It was just a game, I would remember.

Maybe Mama's god would remember that too.


	7. And forgive us our trespasses

**Hold On To What You Believe: Mumford and Sons. **

* * *

_And forgive us our trespasses,_

Forgiveness is what I asked for.

I wasn't proud of what I had done, but being alive was a weighty reward. I only hope my family understood. I couldn't be like the last victor. I wouldn't have survived in hiding. It wasn't my character to run from trouble. My mother knew that...she would understand. I sighed, leaping from the branch of the tree I used to overlook my playing field.

Between my work and what the Careers had done, the woods were clear of weak tributes. Within a week, everyone was dead. There were three Careers left. One girl, two boys, and me. The girl and boy from One and the boy from Four were powerful and confident, but they were easy targets.

I waited for them to find me. The Gamemakers didn't have to pull special tricks to keep us together…they were on the hunt and I was playing easy prey. I sat on the forest floor, waiting, rethinking and redesigning my strategy. In order to make my move, I'd have to split up the girl and boy from One. The boy from Four however, was an expendable to them it seemed. When they were at camp and he was on watch, I crept on their site.

An expendable is desperate if they know what they truly are. This one, however, did not.

"Don't move or I'll kill you." He warned, holding a crossbow aimed directly at my throat. The fire cracked and popped softly beside him.

I shook my head, pressing my finger to my lips, "Shh. I'm not here to kill you." I told him with a small smile, trying to portray sincerity and innocence.

"You're not?" He asked, with a harsh smirk. My lie wasn't convincing enough.

I shook my head, as he called my bluff and sat down in front of him. I lifted my hands slowly to untie my hair, showing I was no threat. I let my long hair fall and then pushed it back, letting it fall messily. I was lucky to have kept my appearance in such good shape since I found the small stream to the west of the arena. "No. I want to ally with you." I told him, letting my hair sweep past my shoulders and drape down my back. I exposed my neck. My clothes were fairly tattered, especially on day four when the acid rain fell throughout the day. I pushed closer towards him, slowly so he wouldn't be alarmed.

He watched me intently, staring at my figure then face then figure again. But he stopped almost immediately. "It's a little late in the game." He told me.

I laughed quietly, running my fingers through my hair. "A career tribute, against me? The weak, malnourished girl from Seven. I have no sponsors…I was lucky to survive." I persuaded him, but I soon realized I had underestimated Odair's tribute. This one was smart and more lethal than the last.

He frowned annoyed, "Do you think I'm stupid?" He asked angrily. "I saw you at the Cornucopia." He kept the crossbow level, still aiming it at me. He was more unsure now. A small smile ran across my lips.

I braided my hair and looked up at him, nonchalantly asking, "But who's killed more?" He didn't know I was the hand that murdered those children and I was smart enough to pretend like I didn't.

He began to grow angry, "Give me one reason why I shouldn't slaughter you now." He growled, inching the bow closer to me.

I looked at the two sleeping giants beside us and then back to him with a very serious glare, "Because I know they're going to kill you and I know how. But with me, you might have a chance of winning," I lied. _Lure them…_I could hear Kalon's voice spitting out instructions.

The boy sat back, "Alright Seven," He said calmly. "Kill the girl." His command was harsh but it might have been what built the trust between us for the few moments I needed.

I was wrong. He was the game changer. They were his puppets. "I don't kill unless for defense," I told him, trying to reroute my plan.

"Kill her now or I kill you," He bargained, still aiming the crossbow. It didn't seem right, attacking someone when left defenseless, but I took hope in Four's betrayal. If I killed the girl and the boy it would just be the two of us. Granted I'd have two very brutal deaths on my hands, but the guilt would wash away in my contender's blood. Guilt cleansed by a traitor...perfect.

I inhaled, heart aching and stomach dropping. The girl's death was silent. The cannon sounding woke the boy. The boy from One defended himself the best he could, crushing Four's crossbow and knocking me to the ground, but Four took care of him, twisting his neck in his hands. Now it was our turn to play. "Allies, right?" I breathed, I lifted an eyebrow noticing the glint of blood lust in his eyes. I let my weight hold on my right foot, ready to fight.

"The game is almost over." He smirked, polishing a knife, "I'll give you a head start."

"To run?" I asked as he circled me.

Four smiled a vicious grin. "Five," He counted. "Four." I grabbed my ax from the girl's chest and sprinted off. I leapt through the woods, climbing the branches. I wouldn't be defeated. This was my territory. He was as fast as I was though. He ran fast, throwing what he could to distract me. One of the hits knocked the ax from my hands. I was weaponless, but still safe in my own sanctuary of trees. Panic didn't set in until I realized he was running me out of the woods. I jumped from the branches free falling onto the rocky ground where the demolished building stood. He caught me, slamming me against a wall. "Don't you know allies don't last long here?" He asked me, taunting me and mocking me. He kept his arm against my throat, relishing in watching me gasp.

"You like trapping me?" I asked, struggling to catch my breath.

He slammed me against another wall. "I hate that our friendship was so brief." He smirked, ready to tear into my throat with the knife buried in his hand.

"Why end it?" I coughed.

"Only one wins." He tossed me aside and I tumbled across rocks, sprawled across rubble, still coughing. My sides ached and I clutched them. Blood was spilling from the cuts across my neck, face, and hands staining the white rocks. "Are you going to beg for your life?"

I shook my head, spitting out blood. My hair fell, draping down my back and across my neck, "No. Of course not. But it's not over." I told him quietly, inching closer to him.

He leaned in closer to me, confidently. "No?" He asked, laughing.

"No," I pulled him into me, kissing him and grabbing his hands. In the chaos, I manipulated his hand and stole the knife, plunging it through his heart. "It's over now." I breathed into his ear, letting him slide to the ground. The final cannon sounded.

I won.


	8. As we forgive Them that sin against us

**Jesus, Jesus: Noah Gunderson. **

* * *

_As we forgive them that trespass against us._

They all cheered for me. It was a better feeling, I'll admit, but there was a lurking sense of terror in the pit of my stomach the more I realized what I had done. I was now a murderer. The memory of the games haunted me. It was easier to forget and shrug off my sins in the arena, but now...now I couldn't forget if I tried. I slaughtered children, some my age like the boy from Four but most were younger. I had killed them. Watching my crimes for the first time didn't help. Winning a crown and a cold smile from President Snow wasn't heartfelt or rewarding. It just reminded me of the terrible price I would pay in judgment if there ever were a God.

I spoke more freely once I was free from the arena. Everyone seemed pleased with me, but one person seemed to pick up on my stress.

"Hey, Seven, it gets better." Finnick Odair told me as we were all leaving the training center. A pang of guilt hit my chest when I saw him. All I could see were sea green eyes and remember the girl he left in Four, the mad one that I never respected. We were murderers, he and I and she...she had nothing to weigh her soul down.

I watched him, my lips pursing and my eyes widening. I frowned with a misplaced anger that I couldn't quite understand and then my bite fell back. "Did it get better for you Odair?" He didn't answer. I bit back my lip and negativity. Guilt struck me like a heavy blow. "I told you I wasn't like her." I said quietly, sorrow pricking at this supposedly victorious moment.

"We'll see..." He said again as we parted our ways. Finnick Odair was a charmer, but there was something different about him. There was a peace about him that I didn't quite understand, but I assumed it was the peace we all get when we go home. Maybe that's where it gets better. I looked back at him before I boarded the train. I was a little sad to leave my only Capitol friend. I didn't apologize for the death of his tribute...or the mocking of his last victor. I should have.

Going back home to Seven gave me a sense of security. My family's embrace healed my troubled mind. They all had dark circles under their eyes. Each one had deep disturbances dancing behind their glances. My sisters were so much thinner. Their skin was yellowed and tired. My poor family...this wasn't better. My mother was the worst. Her long, luscious hair was gone, cut and shaped oddly. Her lips were cracked and bruised, outstanding against her pale skin. Her eyes were the most frightening. "Mama, what's happened?" I asked her quietly, holding her face. My poor mother looked so sick.

She smiled, tears welling in her dark eyes, but almost suddenly her expression changed. She pulled away from me, staring at me like a fragile doll, "My, your soul is lost." Her voice was broken and her breath smelled of alcohol. They had tried curing her. I tried to speak but she fell away from me again. When her mind came back she smiled, hugging me and kissing my cheek. "You're home! My darling Johanna, you're home and safe." She said, crying now.

I hugged her tighter. "Yes Mama. I'm home and safe." I told her, tears pricking at my eyes now. "What's happened to you Mama?" I asked her, patting her short, spiky hair down.

Mama reached up to my face and patted my cheek, "My mind, it's lost darling." She said quietly.

I smiled. "Not lost Mama. It's wandering." I told her, hugging her again. It was different, painful, seeing her like that…but I knew her mind had suffered so much more.

My mother stared up at me, tears now streaming down her face. She was lost again. "Do you ask for forgiveness?" She asked me, hands shaking against my cheek.

"I don't know…" I told her honestly, confused and scared. I didn't want to try to understand her, but I couldn't stop asking myself the question she posed for me. My mother looked frantic and then walked back inside. "Dad?"

He shook his head, understanding my concern. "She's just worried Jo." He seemed uncomfortable. We all knew she was more than concerned.

"Mama's gotten worse Jo." Talia, the youngest of my three older sisters told me.

I watched her with scorn, angry she hadn't protected her better. "Clearly," I muttered, pushing past her. Mama shouldn't have been watching the Games. I followed my mother into the house, slamming the old screen door. The house was just as I left it. The dusty wood floors needed to be cleaned and dinner needed to be prepared. My mother spent her time in her room so I took over chores again. Even though we were scheduled to move into Victor's Village soon, I didn't like the idea of leaving our home in such a state. I didn't speak to any of them for the rest of the evening. I emptied the basin of the dirty floor water, put a sparse dinner on the table and watched them eat in silence. I threw the black book on the table. My mother barely looked at it and the rest of my family shuttered at my display. I bit back the rest of my anger until I could find Kalon the next evening after his work was done.

"Hey…don't worry." He told me after I prattled on about how stupid my sisters were and how careless my father was. I fell back, resting in the branches of our favorite spot in the woods.

"Hey don't tell me what to do brainless." I snapped, but then my anger eased into the joy of just having him with me. I slipped gracefully down to the ground, falling into his arms.

He smiled, taking my hand and instead of pushing me through the woods, he simply held me there in the middle of the clearing. It wasn't an especially private area, but it was a nice change. We were near the edge of the district. The hum of the fence rang loudly in the quiet night. Winter would be here soon. "I'm so proud of you Jo." He told me kissing my forehead. "I never doubted you." He pushed his hands through my long brown hair, running his thumb against my cheek.

"I feel like a monster." I told him quietly, placing my hand over his.

Kalon watched me with a small smile and then pouted his lips at me in confusion. "Why?" He laughed as we stared at the darkening sky in the clearing.

I looked at my hands, burning the color red in the light of the fire and then out of habit glanced over my shoulder for any misguided ears. "I will never be able to wash their blood off my hands." I whispered. My eyes flickered towards the fence in the distance. I'm a Victor, I should have privileges, or at least feel better about all of this. I was a hero...

He wrapped his hands around mine and kissed my fingertips. "You did what you had to do," He said as if that offered any consolation.

I pulled away from him, "You don't get it," I scolded. "It's so weird out there Kal. Actually being in the arena…it was crazy." I muttered seeing dead faces, bloodstained, pass in front of my mind's eye.

Kalon frowned. His dark eyes narrowed watching me with a cold stare. "I don't get it, you're right. Look, you're safe. That's all that matters," He said, trying to cradle me again, but I pulled away for the second time. "What were you going to do? Hide without a single kill?" He sat up, irritated now.

I sat up too, "Maybe that would have been a better option." I pushed my hair back, perplexed and trying to focus. There was so much confusion and it was hard to decipher why I wasn't satisfied.

Kalon watched me angrily. "Hell no it wouldn't have! You wouldn't have made it out," He protested.

I shook my head, only thinking of the pretty victor that Finnick loved. "Annie Cresta made it out," I reminded him in a very small voice.

"Annie Cresta was a weak, sorry make of a victor and lucky the dam broke when it did." Kalon argued. His cheeks were flushing a deep crimson. The muscles in his jaw flexed rigidly.

Seeing Kalon get so worked over about the girl's tactics infuriated me for some unknown reason. "I could have been her," I fought back. My lips pursed tauntingly.

He shook his head, mocking the idea. "You couldn't," He shot back. "She was gorgeous and slept with her mentor. Her very popular mentor."

A new wave of anger rushed through me, most of it directed towards him and my family, the rest belonged to Sir Finnick Odair. "So I guess it isn't so much luck after all, huh Kalon? Just beauty and sex, am I right?" I snapped harshly. "And the killing? All of that...just games right?" It didn't make sense. Kalon and I rarely ever fought. If we did it was over a competition, not a legitimate disagreement. But I couldn't be settled with what he said.

"They are. It was just games." He said exasperated. He didn't like the tension either. His strong hand wrapped around my jaw. "Look Jo, you made it out…that's all you could ask for. Can we just enjoy this moment without you ruining it?"He asked, kissing me.

But I couldn't let it go. There was something that just bothered me. "Sure, fine," I muttered.

Kalon still sensed the negative charge between us. "I'm sorry Jo." He said, rolling his eyes. It bothered him when I didn't respond like he wanted. I watched him for a second longer and then turned away. "Where are you going?" He called out.

"Away," I shouted back, walking further away from him, leaving him in the middle of the clearing. Damn Odair. Nothing was better and I couldn't figure it. I needed answers but all I had to go home to were more confusing statements or talks on God or time and more time to think about the games. My thoughts fluttered around aimlessly, never making sense and all I could think to do was to keep searching.

_"It gets better..."_ His words echoed often in my mind. It gets better. Does it really? And if it does, when will things turn? I asked myself that often. But when I couldn't find answers I waited, always remembering that sometimes things never turn for the better.


	9. And Lead Us Not Into Temptation

Sorry I've been so slack! I hope you all enjoy this chapter :)

**Be Thou My Vision: Ascend the Hill. **

* * *

_And lead us not into temptation,_

It was weird not talking to Kalon. We would see each other through the town or out in the woods and walk in separate directions. I missed him. It was like we were ghosts passing in the night...like the tales of the dead spirits of people living in these lands before, the people that died of hunger or war. My eldest sister used to tell stories like that. She liked a good scare. I missed her too.

Her favorite and the one I remember best described a huntsman and the death of his young wife. She was murdered by a man in white and she would call for her lover, haunting the townspeople in the night. Her eyes burned like coal and when she passed over the living, a cold chill struck them almost dead. They could walk, talk, but their thinking would freeze and they became ghosts themselves. My sister called them the baited of breath. At that point in the story, Ruth and Talia would have run from the room, terrified. My eldest sister would giggle and pull me on her lap to tell me the rest.

"_And the woman would look for her husband, walking the streets, floating through the forest, calling for him in the softest voice that sounded like the wind and the prettiest calling from the birds. She found him in the clearing where he mourned for her. One day he wept so much, he fell asleep in the grass and flowers. The woman pulled the wild flowers around his head, like a crown and gently floated down beside him. She placed her ghostly lips against his, kissing him sweetly with her cold hand on his chest, over his heart. She closed her eyes and fell asleep to his heart beat. When she woke, the beating had stopped. They were reunited again and she left this world in peace." _

The ending had always been her favorite part. She told me how she dreamed of something so romantic to happen to her. I remember frowning at the thought of finding happiness in death. I would watch Kalon's strong jaw flex in a mixture of anger and sorrow as we passed each other, his dead expression, and blank stares. My heart would sink every moment I missed to tell him I loved him. My soul longed and ached for him...or something. And I often found myself rethinking and reanalyzing...maybe my sister understood something about death that I don't.

"Do you remember Sarah?" Mama asked me one afternoon after we had moved to Victor's Village.

My mother sat down beside me on my bed, looking at an old photo of her young daughters. "Of course I do Mama. I could never forget her." I said, putting away clothes and old trinkets.

She frowned, "I do sometimes." She muttered quietly, tears forming in her eyes. She stared at the picture, allowing sorrow to overcome her.

"...Mama..." I whispered, taking the photo from her and placing it face down on the nearby stand.

My mother stared at the white walls of our new home. "I haven't seen her in so long. I hope she's ok," She breathed, rocking a little. Her dark eyes were empty now.

I stood up, grabbing the tattered, leather bound book from my shelf and placing it in her hands, "She's in Heaven now, with your God."

My mother sat quietly, tentatively for awhile. "You think so?" She asked childishly. I nodded. My mother disappeared for a brief moment and then came back, no more tears just memories. "I remember when Ruth was born, Sarah was so young, but so excited. And then when I had Talia, she and Ruth made flower chains and necklaces for her. She was so little!" My mother laughed, "But you...Sarah was most excited about you. God, I don't know what it was that made her so protective over you, but she loved you. Oh, Talia and Ruth were always their own little pack, but you, you my darling Johanna...there was something different about you. And your sister saw that. Do you...do you remember, she would always beg me to do your hair! She loved it! You did too." She told me, running her hand through my hair, looking through me as she reminisced.

I smiled, thinking of my childhood running in the woods with Kalon and his family. My hair was always unruly and tangled. "I can't imagine..."

My mother clapped her hands together with the brightest smile I've seen in awhile. "But you did! You would pick out bows, you'd never let me cut your hair...you'd sit there at the kitchen table before school and she'd braid your long, pretty hair. And after you took a bath, she'd do the same, humming the same hymn to you," She described, getting lost in her thoughts. For a moment, I was lost with her. I missed my sister. "God, she'd be so proud of you now...look at you, a victor. I'm proud of you," My mother told me, putting my face in her hands. Tears were streaming down her face as she kissed my forehead, stroking my long hair.

Sadness stabbed at my heart as I remembered the hymn. "Thanks Mama. I miss her," I muttered quietly.

"I do too baby," She whispered, holding me like when I was younger. "I do too."

My mother rocked me back and forth, weeping with me as we remembered my beautiful sister.

When my mother left me I sat in the room alone for hours, just remembering time. My sister's horrific slaughter, my slaughtering of innocent children, my mother's demise, and my aching that only deepened as time passed.

I should have done something in the games...something to avenge my sister's death. Winning didn't seem to be enough. Because of my win, twenty three innocent children were dead, my mother had descended into a mental state I couldn't understand, and my relationship with the love of my life destroyed. I had nothing. In fact, in a week I was scheduled to parade around Panem and wave and kiss babies.

It wasn't wrong that I was in their favor, right? Surely if Sarah had been alive she wouldn't pass judgment. She'd be proud in fact, my mother was. They always said there was something different about me...maybe this was it.

I was Johanna Mason, Victor of the 71st Hunger Games. In time I would be rewarded for the work I did. I would understand what was put in front of me. I was not weak and I would somehow make the last living person I cared for proud.


	10. But deliver us from Evil

**The Wolves (Act I and II): Bon Iver. **

* * *

_But deliver us from evil._

"And District Three, welcome your victor!" The crowd cheered weakly. Even with the wide smiles of the uncertain civilians of District Three, I still felt like the outsider. But I watched them bow down to me and reveled in it for only a moment. I was treated like royalty or a god. Districts One and Two watched me more menacingly than the others and I wished for Kalon's protection. District Four was beautiful and I knew my sisters would have enjoyed the ocean. My mom would have liked the shore too. I saw Finnick for a brief moment. A young girl, maybe about my age or a little older lingered in the crowd. She was lovely and I knew exactly who she was. Annie Cresta, the looming girl of Four, with long dark hair and pale green eyes. I knew even while Finnick was pretending not to notice, his thoughts revolved around her. They both looked a little thinner and paler. Their eyes were full of worry. I didn't think much of it. The rest of the Districts were gracious, as they always are on these tours, but it was the Capitol that won me over. The party was lavish and the admirers were charming. It was nice being doted on. That's not something I'm usually spoiled with.

"Johanna, my you are beautiful." They would say, wrapping my long hair in their hands. "Antavia, aren't you absolutely envious of these luscious locks." One man said, pulling my hair to his face.

I smiled uncomfortably and let my stylists sweep me away. Eventually I was passed on to the dance floor left to twirl in a gown that dawned nature colors and made me look like a tree sprite. "May I cut in?" An older voice said, tapping my dance partner on the shoulder.

President Snow smiled a cold grin and pulled me to him. "Why my dear, you look radiant," He told me, running the back of his hand down my cheek.

"Thank you sir," I muttered quietly. An eerie feeling crept through my body as goosebumps ran down my spine, but I kept my smile strong.

He smiled again, "You don't mind how they stare at you do you?"He asked me, pushing me across the floor.

"I'm sorry sir?" I asked as I looked up at my company. They did watch. I could feel their eyes on me. Every man watched me with a wicked grin, women stared with envy...I shuddered at their glance.

Snow stood behind me, holding my arms to my side. "Look at the way they stare at you darling. Oh they pine after you," He said, wrapping his grip tighter around my shoulders. "Isn't that something to smile about?" He whispered quietly in my ear.

I shrugged, "I suppose." I muttered, my hair falling from it's intricate design and down my back.

He smiled again, "Look at my manners, never personally congratulating you. Congrats on your win my dear, it's nice to have a victor of your stature," He said, spinning me slowly. "Tall, beautiful, ready for a court." He said, letting me go briefly to see my admirers. They smirked and gawked at me, blowing me kisses and throwing waves in my direction.

Snow pulled me back in. "I'm told my predecessor and I are similar," I told him quietly.

He frowned, shaking his head with a frown, "They're wrong. Look at you dear. A picture of strength and health. You look wonderful."

"Thank you sir," I said, curtsying.

He bowed, "Your guardian will have some things to tell you after tonight. I hope you accept my offer. I only ask from the best, the strongest." He grinned a sickly sweet grin and let go of my hands.

"Ask what, sir?" I asked him almost alarmingly persistent.

He smirked, "Oh, patience sweet girl." President Snow left my presence. I stood in the middle of the floor with a sinking feeling in my chest.

"Johanna?"Another voice broke me from my trance.

"Yes?" I answered absentmindedly. I turned around seeing a tall, younger man, recognizing him immediately. "Oh, Finnick..." I said with a sigh of relief.

Finnick smiled a handsome grin. He really was one of the most attractive men I'd seen. "Lovely party you have here," He said glancing around.

I nodded, walking with him towards the table crowded with luxurious foods and delicacies. "I saw you in Four," I blurted out.

He looked at me in confusion, "And without the courtesy to say hello," He smiled, shaking his head.

I shrugged, "I didn't think you'd want my company, especially seeing as you seemed focused on someone else." I thought back to the young girl, Annie Cresta. There was something that Finnick saw in her, that I was started to understand. She wasn't weak, so much, as she was fragile. I looked back to Finnick, he was the same picture of frailty, but only for a moment.

Finnick watched me with nervous eyes and then shook his head in protest, "I have no one left, Mason," He said, fidgeting with his hands as if trying to tie something that wasn't in his reach. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his suit and replaced his frown with an arrogant smug look.

"We both know that's a lie Odair," I told him, watching the crowd that now held me to a higher standard when just last year I was nothing. "You're not looking well," I said quietly, watching his auburn hair fall in his eyes that didn't seem nearly as bright as they had been.

"Well, that isn't nice." He chuckled, as if to direct the conversation.

I watched the members of the Capitol dance mindlessly and then back to the man that seemed more broken than he would have liked to admit. "What happened to you two?"I asked quietly. I remembered her interview. How nervous she looked coming from the arena, when she learned about her District partner and his sacrificial love for her...how she evidently confessed her love for Finnick and then went mad. From what I know, they didn't speak much after her display of insanity at her own party. That's when the stories didn't match up, not that I honestly cared to learn more.

Finnick shook his head, "Nothing happened. Things just didn't work out." I heard that story. He still loved her. It was in the way he stood when someone mentioned her or the faces he made.

"I'm sorry Odair," I muttered sympathetically.

Finnick stood tall again, confident, "Just...don't give in to them Mason."

"What are you talking about Finnick?"I asked, frowning.

He looked at me, nodding his head towards me. "Just remember what I told you." He said quietly, slinking off back into the crowd of glamour.

A hand pulled me away from the party. "Come with me," Isla said, taking me from the crowds of fans. She sat me down, pacing around me and giving me a list of rules, expectations, and assignments.

The process didn't make sense. "Every two weeks, maybe more, you will be summoned here to the Capitol to fulfill the duties and appointments the President has set aside for you. If you do not complete your tasks, you will find a weighty price will be paid. So I suggest, you not dally when you're here." She told me sternly.

"What will these tasks entail?" I asked quietly, watching Isla with more worry as she circled me like a vulture.

"You are now a national icon...you will be an item to accompany strong political figures in the Capitol."

I frowned, "Accompany? What does that mean?"

"You will act as a figure of state. You're an idol now...Who could blame you, as beautiful as you are." That was the first compliment Isla had ever given me for the year I've known her.

"Thank you Isla," I muttered.

"You're dismissed for now Johanna. Your first assignment begins tomorrow." She sent me to my room and I fell into a distressed sleep.

Something didn't seem right about my first moments of the meeting. Stylists came to my room, strapping me in a nice, form fitting dress. A man knocked on the door a few hours later, complimenting me and taking me by the arm. He was a nice man, not too much older than me. I stayed on his arm the entire evening as he prattled on about the changes he intended to make now that power had gracefully fallen into his fingertips. He spoke of his election like it was a clean campaign and simple popularity graced him, when in fact his power was seized ruthlessly. The night dwindled on and I played my part, sitting quietly by his side and smiling sweetly when I could. "This was a lovely night but I'm going home tomorrow morning, so I had better..."I feigned a yawn, ready to be escorted home, but he grabbed my arm.

"Oh no, I think you've misunderstood...the night isn't over yet." He said with a small, cold smile. Fear crept up my spine.

I felt small in his hold, "What do you mean?" I asked quietly.

The young man smiled, "I've paid a great sum for you darling, and I intend to make the most of it."He said in an angry snarl, escorting me from the car.

"You paid for me?" I squeaked as we traveled through an apartment building.

He laughed smugly, "Not quite understanding? That's ok, I'll help you understand." The man pulled me through his home until we reached a small back room. He sat on a bed, undoing his tie. "Come here," He said. Danger filled the room and my heart sank as I slowly understood the meaning behind my appointments. I was still nothing to them. "Good girl." He told me, kissing my cheek. I did as he told me.

I left the next morning, tears welling in my eyes, feeling weak and filthy. My bones were shattered, spirit broken, but I never let them see me hurt. I was still in the Games...and a winner never falters.


	11. For Thine is The Kingdom

**Down in the Valley: The Head and The Heart. **

* * *

_For thine is the kingdom,_

"Johanna." My father raced after me after I stormed through our cold home, calling my name. I could hear my sisters echoing in the background.

"Don't talk to me," I barked, rolling a smooth pebble in my hand. The winter winds of Seven were harsh this year. The nights were merciless in the woods. It was quiet except for my feet marching softly in the crunching snow.

He ran up to me, keeping my pace. I marched past him. "There was nothing we could do." He told me quietly, frantically.

I stopped, the cold was biting, hot tears chilling against my skin. "Nothing?" I croaked, my angry growl lost in the darkness. I kept moving.

My father followed me, stopping me, "Johanna...I'm just as hurt by this turn..." He tried to explain. Fury shot through me as I lashed out against him. They forgot what I remembered. I remember how my sisters would worry after my mother as a second thought, or how my father grew frustrated when she relapsed.

My lips quivered, whether it was from the cold or just my heart breaking, I wasn't quiet sure. "No Dad. You've been counting down the days," I said quietly, my eyes staring coldly. "Who saw her last?" I asked, losing feeling in my body. My nose was numb, my chest aching from the chill, and my hands burning as the arctic hell winds blew over us.

"Jo," My father started, watching me with a hopeless detachment from his emotions.

New tears filled my eyes as I thought about my sick mother, wandering in the cold. "Who saw her last?" I asked him.

"I don't know." It was the first honest answer from my father in years.

I stared the old man in the eyes. He focused on the cold white layer of snow. "Pathetic," I growled. My eyes followed his, and then fell back to the darkness of the woods. I kept walking, looking for traces of my mother, where she last walked, where she rested for the night and then met death's cold kiss.

I pushed my father out of the way, "You weren't home," He yelled in the quiet of the night. "What did you want me to do? You were the one she needed! What could I have done?" My heart dropped and I raced back to him, shoving my father so hard, he toppled to the ground. All shame I had regarding my family left with my mother's remains.

"Stop her! You should have stopped her!" I shouted, tears streaming down my face. All of me hated him, but half of me knew he was right. I should have been home. She shouldn't have had to go out to see if I had gotten lost...I should never have been gone that long.

Guilt and sadness overpowered me as I ran through the woods, finding her makeshift grave, the last place anyone saw her. I pictured her bony frame, weak, lifeless as sleep overwhelmed her. The cold must have been brutal. The night must have been long. I placed the small pebble at the grave, a worthless token in place of my sorrow.

I took to running in the woods. I didn't know where I was going, I let my feet take control. I found myself at a familiar home, but it had been so long since I had been on that doorstep. I knocked on the door as if second nature. "H-Hey Jo." He said with a scared smile.

"Kalon..." I cried, wrapping my arms around him. He was a stranger that I had come to miss. It felt as if something pierced my heart when I saw his handsome face, his dark eyes watching me with worry. I sobbed in the arms of the last person I trusted.

He held me tighter, walking out into the cold with me. "Hey, I'm-I'm so sorry." He said, wrapping his coat around me and kissing my forehead.

"It's awful Kal. I...I can't do it." I slurred, drunk on sadness and some imported alcohol I drank from a small flask, given to me by my suitors and clients.

Guilt sank in deeper as I wailed. He ran his palm over my cheek, pushing my hair back and kissing me again. "What are you talking about Johanna?" He asked quietly.

I took another swig of drink, putting my face in my hands, "I'm still in the game," I murmured groggily. The alcohol haze was strong. I remembered my mother wishing I didn't leave. She would come into my room at night and ask me to stay. She would write me sweet ramblings and scribbles and leave them before I left the next morning. She cried everyday I left. I should have said no. "I killed her Kal. I killed my mom," I whispered quietly. I fell into Kalon's arms crying again.

He wrapped around me tighter, running his hands through my hair, "Hey, shh...no. You know she hasn't been well for a long time." He muttered sweetly. "She's been sick Jo." He said, sniveling himself. He kissed my forehead.

I curled into his chest, "I was never here. She just needed me home."

He kissed me again, "You can't blame yourself for that."He wrapped his hand around my face, kissing my cheek, forehead and lips.

I involuntarily pushed him away. "I should have told them no!" I shrieked, echoing the thoughts buzzing around my mind. "I should have said no," I cried again, crumbling in his arms. He held me, humming and stroking my hair.

He let me cry until I calmed down, waiting patiently, attentively. "It'll get better," He told me.

I shook my head, eyes red and swollen, "They all say that and it's gotten worse. I'm terrible Kal." I croaked.

"How?"

I shook my head with a harsh smile, "You don't see it?"

He looked into my eyes. His dark eyes searched mine, "I see you. I see you're wonderful." He told me, his hand holding my jaw. He kissed me slowly and then backed away. "I still love you Jo and I know you're scared, but I know you Jo. You're strong and you'll be ok," He told me, pushing my hair back and holding me still. He ushered me inside his home, we were both fighting off the cold. He pulled me to his room, and helped sneak me out in the morning. We continued that until they called me back to the Capitol. We still ran away to our secret world in the woods but my visits were cut shorter as the months went on. Every time I came home, he never asked where I had gone, somehow we both knew. One night, the bitter cold still haunted Seven, Kalon and I sat in front of a blazing fire he had built for me. He curled up against my chest.

"Where does my love go?" He asked me, playing with my gloved hands.

I pulled a blanket over the two of us. "I only go as far as my love lets me," I muttered his playful poem wearily. I let my hands trail though his hair, kissing his forehead.

His hands reached up, touching the tips of the long strands of hair I had braided. "She wanders." I stared down at him, sadness gleaming in both our eyes. He hated when I kept secrets from him, but I let him hate his lover.

I left for the Capitol shortly, seeing Finnick when I bounded from the train. He nodded, on the same journey as me. His worn smile and sad eyes gave him a ragged look, instead of the usual man I met in the Capitol's graces. He didn't say anything to me, but instead pushed past me, weary and looking frustrated.

"I'm still nothing like her Finnick," I shouted on the train dock.

He turned around to face me, pushing a strong hand through his wavy auburn hair. "Hmm?"

I gulped, pushing my long brown hair back behind my ear. I had never felt so vulnerable, but he knew what I was, just as I knew his secret. "Annie. She's stronger than me," I told him in a strained voice. And she was. She may have gone mad, but she figured out a way to escape the fate Finnick and I had fallen to.

He shook his head, watching me with a sorrowful smile, "You're more like her than you'll ever know."

I frowned, as he insisted comparing me to his crazy girlfriend. "I don't understand the appeal of you Odair," I spat.

Finnick laughed sardonically, "You're not the only one Mason."

I tried not to simmer in my disdain of his insistence, but my tongue lashed quicker than my thoughts of compassion. I didn't understand the tragedy of who was Annie Cresta, but her family dying a sudden death when she came home from her tour, I did understand her new sadness. "I'm sorry for what happened to her," I muttered almost apologetically. "Is she ok?" I asked in reverence.

It was clear, he didn't want to answer. He squirmed at the question. "She'll be better soon. We all will," He told me with a soft smile. "Take care of yourself Johanna." He told me, walking in the opposite direction.

I nodded with my own branded Victor smile. It was weaker than before. "You too Finnick," I whispered, walking down my own road of the used and wasted. We did indeed understand tragedy.


End file.
